Forgiven Sins
by Dreamer Dreaming of a Dream
Summary: "Just like my Father, my job is to forgive people for the sins they have committed. Like my Father, I am suppose to be the light. Like my Father, I am suppose to preach the word of God. My name is Ora and this is how I met Danny, the son of Satan." Danny/OC Ghost Rider: Spirit of Vengeance
1. Prologue

Forgiven Sins

Summary: "Just like my Father, my job is to forgive people for the sins they have committed. Like my Father, I am suppose to be the light. Like my Father, I am suppose to preach the word of God. My name is Ora and this is how I met Danny, the son of Satan."

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**_Prologue_**

The day she was born, the doctors said she was a blessing, a miracle, with her light brown hair and naturally tanned skin. Her vibrant blue eyes -that shined like stars- was the only thing that came from her mother. Her grandmother was the only person, beside her mother, was actually there to watch the birth of beautiful young girl. Or was she? Of course the grandmother might have been the only one there that everyone could see and hear, but someone else was there, beside the mother as she screamed in pain.

He stood there, stroking her face, his eyes bright and filled with love and happiness. His form was dressed in white robes, not a stain on them. He wore brown sandals, dust covering the soles. His tanned skin was clean and perfect, not a scar or a blemished marked his beautiful skin. His brown hair came to his shoulders, coming down in perfect waves. His face was graced with a brown beard, framing his face majestically. Light radiated off of him, making him shine more brighter than the sun.

It was a shame that no one saw him, in all his glory. No one, except Moriya, the mother giving birth to the miracle baby. Moriya felt his loving touch, saw his bright eyes, saw his proud smile. And as she heard the cries of the new born, the young woman turned her eyes to the doctor, watching as he smiled and handed over to the little girl to he woman, gesturing for everyone to leave her alone.

Moriya's mother came in then, her green eyes soft as crows feet tightened at the corners of her eyes as she smiled. "She's beautiful, Mori." She said, tears shinning in her eyes as she looked at the little bundle in her arms.

Moriya's heart thumped painfully in her chest, her lungs felt like they were about to give out. She knew that she didn't have much more time, she had to tell her mother now. "Mom." She croaked, watching as her mother's eyes went wide. The older woman rushed over to her side, stroking her forehead. "Mom. I'm... I'm..."

"Sh... Shh. Everything will be alright, you'll be alright." She cooed, brushing her blonde hair out of her eyes.

"No." Moriya said, closing her eyes, letting a tear slip by her eyelids. "No, I'm not going to make.. it." She panted, her blue eyes looking at her baby, her flesh and blood.

"What are you-"

"Mom." Moriya cut her mother off, her eyes stern. Once the young woman knew that her mother was going to let her speak, she continued, "Now... I want you to take care of her for me. You can do that, right?" The older woman nodded, her eyes brimming with unshed tears, making a sad smile come upon Moriya's face. "Please don't cry, mom. I guess it's just my time to go, you know? It's not like I'll be going to an awful place. I'll be going to the promised land." She paused to breathe out a long, shaky breath. "I'll be able to see dad again." With much strength she could muster, Moriya handed her daughter over to her mother's empty arms.

"I don't have much time left... mother." She panted out, her heart beats getting slower and slower. "Please... take care... of her."

Her mother looked down at the baby, seeing its vibrant blue eyes open and look into her green ones, a small happy smile coming upon the baby's face. "What is her name?" The older woman asked, looking back to her daughter.

Moriya laughed breathlessly, her hand coming up to her heart.

_"Ora." _She heard the whisper, feeling the hot breath in her ear, hearing his gentle voice.

"Ora." She repeated, her eyes closing and her breathing stopped. A small, sad smile was left on her face, the heart monitor beeping in one note and going blank. The doctors rushed in, everything seemingly going in slow-motion. The nurses rushed the grandmother out of the room, the doctors trying to revive Moriya, the baby starting to cry. Adiva, the grandmother, cradled the baby in her arms and 'ssh'ed her gently, rocking it back to sleep.

"Ssh... ssh." She whispered, watching as the little girl closed her eyes and went back to sleep. "Everything's gonna be alright." Adiva silently made a small vow, promising that she would take of Ora, raise her right, like how her mother wanted. She would make sure that the girl is loved. She would make sure that the girl would be protected. She would make sure that she would feel safe everyday. And she would make sure that she would never cry. Adiva just couldn't take it if Ora cried, it would remind her too much of this day, this sad, painful day. She just couldn't handle the picture of her daughter dying, not again. She just... couldn't.

"Everything's gonna be alright, my little Ora."

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**So? What do you guys think? I've had a little time on my hands lately. I watched Ghost Rider and Ghost Rider 2 today and then the idea struck me. I kinda did a 'History Repeat' there. If anyone doesn't know who the Ora's father is, then you'll figure out later in the story, if you do know, then you'll understand where I'm kinda going with this. I've had some kind of writers block for awhile. **

**Immortal Sins: I will continue it, don't worry, but I have no idea how to situate Iris and Casshern. **

**Sisterly Love: Have no idea what to do with the next chapter. I'm trying to sort it out and all. Especially for Ronnie telling Scott her secret. **

**Andy Simmons: I'm half way through the next chapter, but I'm trying to figure out how the guys are going to figure out that Andy is a girl.**

**Faith of a Hawk: Trying to figure out how to introduce my OC to the others.**

**I Promise: All ready started on the second chapter, but trying to make it more emotional and more dramatic. **

**That's all I have to say and please review and tell me what you think of this story. **

**~A Dreamer Dreaming of a Dream**

**P.S.~ Avida-gracious, pleasant, gentle **

**Ora-Light**

**Moriya-Chosen by God**


	2. World full of Saints and Sinners

**_Chapter 1: World full of Saints and Sinners_**

It was like any other day for her. Her going into another town on her motorbike, her guiding lost souls to churches, preaching the word of God to nonbelievers, her praying for the sinners into finding grace. The thirteen year old wore her normal clothing; a brown leather jacket, black fingerless gloves, white shirt, blue jeans, and a pair of black boots. Her light brown hair was long and pulled back into a high pony tail, her blue eyes were gentle and held kindness in them. She wore no make-up, for she saw no point into wearing it. To her, everyone was beautiful, but they're are afraid to show it. Of course the young girl was beautiful, anyone would think so when they saw her walk by, with her high cheek bones, small full lips, dark eyelashes, even eyebrows, tan skin, vibrant blue eyes, and small button nose.

Ora wasn't like any normal girl her age. She didn't think about boys, make-up, or clothing. Instead she thought of Heaven, Jesus Christ, and her mother. Her grandmother, Adiva, had told her that the night that she was born, her mother gave her last breath when naming her. But when her grandmother told her, she was only eight, Ora did not cry, instead she said: "I'm not sad that my mother died, for she is in a much better place. She doesn't have to go through the struggles of what this Earth has to offer. She's happy, she's...free. Our Father will take care of her, so I will not cry and worry, instead I will pray my thanks and my love to our Lord and I'll keep moving forward."

To say her grandmother was surprised would be the understatement of the year, instead she was completely and utterly shocked where she couldn't utter a single syllable. Instead she just looked at the young girl as she titled her head at her and smiled softly. The eight year old laughed gently and grabbed her grandmother's hand and pulled her with her, her laugh carrying through the slight breeze that pushed her hair from her face. And as the years past, the girl grew up loving, protecting people that seemed to have lost their way. She loved the ones that seemed to stumble across the way when trying to reach the light, but later fell into the depths of darkness. Either way, she called them "brothers" and "sisters".

To people, Ora was the light that shined brightly in the darkness. She was like a walking bible, sharing verses to people who didn't believe that they would ever be forgiven. She was the one person that people could lean on. She was the ever lasting arms, carrying people into churches and praying for them. She was the healer for peoples hearts that were shattered, like glass falling to the cold hard floor and breaking into little pieces. She was the messenger sent from Heaven, whispering kind words to the wounded. She was like a new born baby, having the innocence and glow that radiated off of her.

To people, she was the salvation that the world needed.

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Her light brown hair covered her face as she bowed her head, her tan hands folded together as she said a silent prayer. She breaths were calm and even, her face had a serene expression. Her lips moved as she spoke, but no words came from her throat.

_'Dear Lord, Holy Ghost, Father, _

_Here I am, once again, bowing my head and sending my love to you, my Lord. I have traveled far, finding ones who have lost their way, lost their hope. I am here to ask from you, that you give that hope, that faith, to them. For them to hear your loving voice, to feel your loving touch, please help them find their way. There's so much that I can do, after all. I can guide people to you, only you can meet them there at the hands of fate, Father. _

_Amen.' _

Ora raised her head, pausing for her blue eyes to sweep across the stained glass windows, looking at the pictures that told a story of the Lord. Smiling softly, the young girl stood and swiftly turned on her heel and walked out of the church. Her black heels 'clicked' as she walked down the brick stairs, her eyes zeroing in on her motorcycle. The young girl touched her necklace, tracing the cross, once and grabbed her helmet, only freezing when she heard a chuckle.

"You serious?"

Turning around, she saw Moreau and black clad stranger. He had black hair, a fair complexion, and gray/green eyes. Aging lines could be seen on his face, but there was only so little to see. Ora felt something radiating off of him, but she couldn't pinpoint the emotion. The blue eyed girl switched her gaze on Moreau, seeing the serious look on his face as he looked at his companion.

"Moreau." Her soft voice penetrated the short silence. The black man looked over to the young girl, seeing her blue eyes made him want to turn away, for he felt as though he was not worthy to look at something so pure.

"You have to be kidding me, Moreau." The stranger interrupted, making her eyes switch to him instead of Moreau. "This girl. This twelve year old girl is going to help us? How?" He asked mockingly, his eyes pausing to look at her clear blue ones.

"Thirteen, actually." She corrected as she sat her helmet down gently. She stuffed her hands in her pants pocket, watching every move that Moreau's companion made. She could feel something inside of him, another spirit intertwined with his, one that is not suppose too. It screamed at her, she could hear it, but it meant no harm. She felt it reaching for her, reaching for her warmth. Her spirit reached back, her soul feeling the torment this one went through, feeling the emptiness that was there. Ora heard the whispers, hearing voices, the screams. It made her heart thump.

_"Johnny Blaze." _One of the voices whispered just before jerking back and went into the darkest part of his heart where it felt safe from her warmth. Her soul paused before reaching away, feeling foolish as it retreated back into the girls body and heart. She breathed in a deep breath, watching as 'Johnny Blaze' clutched at his chest, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. He didn't know what happened. At first he felt warmth envelope his body, feeling his feelings returning. But just as quick as it came, it came cold once again, his heart feeling black and empty.

"You have dark past, Johnny Blaze." She said softly, gaining a dumfounded look from Johnny. "Your soul... it's intertwined with another, is it not?" She asked, walking closer to the man and slowly circled him. She hummed softly, tilting her head to one side, still feeling that presence of the third person. She was not judging him, he noticed, only looking at him in question. He could feel the gentleness that came off of her, he could see the pure glow that was in her eyes. He could feel her soul reaching for the Ghost Rider's, but alas, it did not reach back. It instead backed away, growling as it felt Ora's.

The young girl seemed surprised, only furrowing her brow as she again reached forward, only barley touching the Ghost Rider. But it seemed as the Rider did not like that, and once her soul was close enough, it pushed it back, making the young girl stumble back and clutch her chest, small coughs coming from her throat. As she looked back at the man, he turned to look at Moreau instead, his hand coming up to grip at his own chest, feeling his heart thump. The young girl blinked and nodded, scratching the palm of her hand a little, then frowned sadly.

"You have the Rider's soul within you." She stated, a feeling of nostalgia passing through her eyes. She remembered the dreams she had, seeing the many stories of the fallen angels'. She remembered seeing the many souls being damned, seeing the agony on their faces, seeing their pale skin and the dark circles under their ghostly eyes. But the one story she'd remembered, was the one of the _Spirit of Justice_ and what he used to be. He was once a respectful angel, and had protected the innocence from monsters, like killers, rapist, and ones that did not believe in his God. He was the bringer of fire, bringing forth the blue fires to consume the evil souls. Zarathos, was his name, and he was a magnificent angel, one that did not deserved to be dragged down to Hell and tortured into madness. But as the saying goes, "Everything happens for a reason." And Ora did not question Fate, for everything that happens, has a purpose, good or bad, its just the people that have to make the decisions.

But now, Zarathos was known as _Spirit of Vengeance_.

Johnny, looking surprised and taken back, looked between Moreau and Ora, trying to wrap his head around the experience he had just encountered. This girl, a thirteen year old girl, knew about the Ghost Rider, knew his name. Did what Moreau say was true? That she could feel and hear the souls? But the real question was, could she really help them? Because she's just a kid, a-barely-teenager.

"And to answer your doubts, Johnny, yes I can help you." She said, her voice soft and smooth, like soft silk. Her eyes softened, a grim expression on her face. "We have to find Danny, before he becomes the Anti-Christ."

_In this world, they're are two groups of people. Let's start with the Saints. The Saints are good hearted souls, meaning well in this world, knowing that they want God in their life, and they will follow him to the very ends of the Earth just to be with him. They help the wounded and don't care about titles that other people put on others. All they care about are the tortured and withered souls. Now the Sinners. The Sinners are the ones with tainted hearts and minds, the ones where they have been tempted by the Devil and have failed the Test of God. They have been blinded by the darkness and they can't seem to find the light. Their hands are tainted by the sins they have committed. _

_But there's me. Where am I, you ask? I guess you can call me a Saint, if you like. I even heard people say that I'm an angel sent from God to save the world. True, I am a daughter of God, but we are all children of God and he calls to all of us, only some choose to answer to call. The day I born, I heard the gentle whispers of our Lord, and I decided to let my heart answer. In this world, its not just thinking with your mind, but it's also acting with your heart. _

_And I make sure that people never forget that. _

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**So...? Like it? Hate it? Please send ma review and tell me what you think...**


	3. Tortured Heart

_**Chapter 2: Tortured Heart**_

_In this world, there are false prophets, ones that lead you on the wrong path and make the hole deeper than it already is. They are the ones that lead your heart astray and put you in a much worse situation. You think that everything that they're saying is true, but don't listen to your mind, let your heart decide, and let your actions speak for themselves. These people are dangerous and they are hard to pinpoint who exactly they are. Again, let your heart make the decision, but that doesn't mean that your mind can't think, let it, just let our heart make the final decision. _

_But in this world- in this imperfect, dark, cold world -some people don't know how to listen to the screams of your heart, the pleas that it makes at night. They don't think that it matters, they think that they don't have a heart to listen to. But maybe if they actually open their minds and let your ears hear what they actually want to hear, then maybe you can finally hear your heart speak and you can also hear your God speak. _

_Maybe then will you hear your tortured heart truly speak. _

Ora followed closely behind Moreau and Johnny, watching as Johnny gripped the handles of his motocycle tightly, nervousness coming off of him in waves. Her soul had tried once again to reach for him, but she thought better of it. She decided to wait until they were not driving at a very high speed and weren't on motorcycles'. The blood in her veins pumped as her heart skipped a beat, making her gasp silently and grab onto it, only swerving a little. She shook her head, trying to shake the feeling of fright off of her shoulders. Once the shaky feeling was gone, the young girl focused her attention back on the road, trying to pinpoint exactly where they were at, at the moment, but she could not. Her sense of direction wasn't that bad, but it wasn't the greatest in the world.

She saw as they came upon a small shack, being worn from the years it has been used. The holes in the roof, she noticed, looked more like they have been burned or maybe even broken into. It was hard to tell after all. As they came to a stop, the brunette looked at Moreau in questioning, but he just smiled at her. She then switched her gaze to Johnny, seeing him avoid her gaze as he walked past her and into the worn shack. But as he past her, she felt a ghostly chill run up her spine and hand tug at her jacket, making her walk forward and follow Johnny inside. When she walked in, all she saw was dust and some beer bottles and also a broken window. She walked over to it, seeing a shattered bottle on the other side.

Of course, the young girl didn't hin much about it, but she instead watched as Moreau and Johnny talk in hushed whispers.

"Are you sure she can help?" Johnny asked, uncertainty coating his voice. His eyes glanced over at her, but she had busied herself at looking around the room, not knowing that she could hear them.

The black man just looked at him with narrowed eyes, his lips in a serious frown. "Positive."

Johnny just couldn't believe that this girl could help. His mind was telling him that this was all wrong and that she would just get in the way or end up getting hurt. She could become a distraction that was not needed in this fight. He couldn't afford for such an innocent person to die. She was too young in his book, too pure to be brought into this fight. So he doubted himself, Moreau, and he doubted Ora, thinking that this was still some sick joke that needed to end. "What makes you so sure?"

"She's the daughter of Jesus Christ." Moreau answered simply, a smile coming upon his face as he glanced at the thirteen year old. She was messing with her charm bracelet, making a small jingle come from it. It was a beautiful bracelet, its silver body casting a small glow. The Priest knew that she heard every word that was spoken from his and Johnny's lips, but instead she decided to busy herself by looking around and letting her eyes take in her surroundings. His dark eyes held a certain look in them, one of distance and remembrance. He remembered the first time that he had met the young girl. She was about eight when he first saw her, saw her smile happily while clutching onto her grandmothers hand as she ran as fast as her little legs could carry her and the two of them went into the church.

Moreau remembered pulling out a picture and looking at it, seeing the girl -he just saw run into the church- being the human in the picture itself. The black man put the folded paper back into his black coat and walked into the small white building, hearing the Preacher begin his lesson. As he went on, Moreau watched on as the young girl listen intently as the older male went on and on about Jesus. And once he was done, everyone got up and was pouring out of the little white church, all except the eight year old. Her grandmother had set a hand on her shoulder, telling her that it was time to go, but the girl shook her head and smiled.

"I want to stay a little while longer, Grandma." She had said, her voice small as her eyes glowed. He watched as the grandmother nodded and smiled before leaving the little girl behind, the church empty besides of its two residents. The little girl had gotten to her feet and walked to the altar, looking up at the stained glass windows, the light from the sun shining through them and casting a small light to shine on the young girl. Moreau had came to stand beside the young one, his hands folded behind his back as he, too, looked at the pictures. In the corner of his eye, he saw the little girl look up at him and smile brightly.

"Pretty, isn't it, mister?" She asked, one of her front teeth missing and making her have more of a lisp. Moreau smiled down at the young girl, seeing her bright blue orbs shine as she looked at him. She reminded him of a little angel with her white dress and her light brown hair all mashed up in curls. A light color of pink touched her cheeks as her lips thinned when she smiled.

"Yes it is, child." He spoke, the sound of his voice was laced with a thick French accent.

She smiled at him and grabbed his hand in her own. She had this certain expression on her face that made Moreau want to cry out in praise, for the good Lord has come, through his daughter. "My name's Ora, what's yours mister?" She had asked, her silver bracelet casting a glow.

The black man gripped her hand, feeling the warmth on his cold palms. He knelt down to his knees, eye level with the young girl and smiled gently at her. She was the child that he had been searching for. She's the answer to all problems. She's the light that everyone needs in their lives. She's the purity that cleanse people when they have answered the call. She's a angel, sent from God himself to save the people from their own destruction. And he could have never imagined at how bright she would shine.

"Moreau, child."

The black male snapped out of his little flashback soon enough to see Ora look back at him, questions in her eyes. "Explain to me again on exactly how we are going to find Danny?" Johnny asked, his eyes jumping from Ora to Moreau.

"The Ghost Rider." Both spoke, turning to look at him as he nodded, doubt swelling his chest.

"Right. Well let's get started, then."


End file.
